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The box
The story behind the poem
I am getting older now and live alone but for the
company of a blue and gold macaw named Sweetheart who inspired me to
write The Box for her birthday.
I raised this happy bird from a baby and in spite of my shortcomings,
she has grown in size and virtues of vigilance, honesty, bravery,
tenacity, adaptability, forgiveness and the skill of flight.
Now as she greets me each morning I am humbled by her vigorous love of
life and as we stand at the window and she calls out, I can’t help but
wonder if the sound reaches beyond the distant hills to a place where it
is still the morning of life. A place where the macaws of the Amazon
come together in a cacophony of living rainbows with voices that echo as
if nature had intended to speak. It must be there in these wild
cathedrals that the sights and sounds arrest the mind in silent
invocation, and hold transfixed in wonder, all who witness.
The wild macaws are still with us as we nightly visit them in sleep, but
they are somewhere off in the distance now, travelling toward an empty
horizon as are she and I.
by Mike Bross
Read the poem
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